Black and white.

The Forbidden Forest is always black. Even during the day. There just isn't enough room for light. Every inch is packed with life, or death, and the sun can't penetrate between the thick canopy of the trees. The creatures - whispering, chattering, screeching, fluttering, hissing, and, occasionally, terribly silent, creatures - have long since forgotten what the word means.

Many of them have forgotten how to see, too. Or at least how to see things a human would consider worth seeing. Werewolves only care about the moon - certainly not about the sun! - and the other inhabitants...

Well, most of them don't care about anything at all. Apart from blood, and the darkness, and the wildness of their lives.

The Hogwarts Professors aren't joking when they warn students away.

***

Unicorns, on the other hand, are white.

Not just white, in fact, but such a bright white that snow looks grey beside them. They move like ghosts through the Forbidden Forest, chasing away even the darkest shadows, and - particularly in the summer months - often accompanied by a slender, wraith-like girl with white silver eyes that reflect their brightness.

No number of warnings would scare her away. The shadows hold no fears for Luna Lovegood. She talks to Thestrals and walks with unicorns.

Other humans are the ones she struggles with.

Luna is an intelligent girl. She knows the difference between physical black (the Forbidden Forest, the skin a Thestral) and physical white (unicorns and moonlight and snow at Christmas).

She understands the shades of grey, as well. People are grey. Complicated, and indecisive and more dangerous than anything dark.

She's chase away the shadows for them, one day. She was sure of it.

***

Nargles are white too, by the way.

Ten times you've lied to spare someone else pain.

1. "Don't worry, Daddy, I'm sure we'll catch some soon."

2. "You're just as sane as I am."

3. "I don't mind. Of course you'd rather sit with them. You're popular now."

4. "I've never stunned anyone before."

5. "This is all very strange, isn't it?"

6. "I'm sure people struggle to answer the question all the time."

7. "Oh, it's all good fun."

8. "Hogwarts doesn't have a Nargle infestation. Why would you think that?"

9. "They're only antlers. I'm sure no-one will even notice."

10. "I love you too."

"Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us without words?" - Marcel Marceau.

It was amazing, when you thought about it, that words - just simple words - could have such huge effects on people. They were just a handful of syllables, really. A few carefully chosen vowels and consonants, strung together to make sentences. But, somehow, they managed to convey a thousand different thoughts and emotions.

Words like "the Weasley twins have been sneaking around the Charms corridor" would send the entire student population of Hogwarts running for cover, fleeing from exploding toilet seats and puking pastilles.

Words like "I'm sorry" could earn forgiveness or condemnation. It all depended on the circumstances, and the intonation. Remarkable.

Words like "wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure" always made Luna smile. Rowena Ravenclaw was such a remarkable woman.

Words like "Lord Voldemort has returned" were always heard, no matter what volume they were uttered at. They sent fear running through the hearts of even the bravest witches and wizards.

Words like "I love you..."

Well, that all depended on who was saying it.

***

"I love you."

It took Neville a long time to get the words out. He stopped and started several times. He spluttered and stammered and shook. But he got them out eventually, and that was the main thing.

Luna slipped her hand into his. She didn't reply. She couldn't.

That was answer enough.

***

"I love you."

"That's nice."

Rolf looked at her worriedly. Just nice? Not 'wonderful'? Not 'I love you too'.

No. Definitely not.

Ten ways you procrastinate in everyday life.

1. Oh no. Of course I don't procrastinate. I'm a Ravenclaw, and we're a very hard-working group of people. I was chosen to become a member of Rowena Ravenclaw's house, and I can't possibly betray her memory by procrastinating!

I suppose that, occasionally, I do occasionally get a little distracted by things. Interesting snowflakes, for example. Or an owl from Daddy about the latest specimen he's found. Or the thestrals in the Forbidden Forest.

That isn't procrastination, though. There are just so many wonderful things in the world, and I hate the idea of missing any of it because I've got my head buried in a textbook.

I'm sure Rowena wouldn't mind that. Would she?

"Never pray for justice, because you might get some." - Margaret Atwood.

Fred and George were uncharacteristically silent as they made their way to dinner. Business was going well, but the success of their products and mail order service made the demand for new bits and pieces even greater.

The proprietors of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes were stuck. They had plenty of ideas, but they needed a new candidate to test things on. Someone who wasn’t a) a first year or b) Neville Longbottom.

As they were debating the problem – or, at least, debating which Slytherin they should choose – the twins came across a very odd sight.

Skipping down the corridor, with her back to them, was a blonde fourth year blissfully ignorant of the older student levitating an unopened package out of her back pack.

It was odd only because both the perpetrator and victim were Ravenclaws, and because there seemed to be no real motive. Magical trickery in itself was nothing new at Hogwarts. But it was also very useful, because Fred and George found their new test dummy without even having to look very far.

It was all too easy, really, to replace the box of stolen sweets with a box of canary creams. The chirping and flurry of feathers coming from the great hall a moment later was very satisfactory.

“The new batch seems to be working well,” Fred commented.

George nodded. “So are we. Someone needs to keep an eye on the poor and unprotected of Hogwarts…”

***

The twins took to their new role like Nargles to mistletoe.

“You know, Fred, I think we’ve finally found our true calling,” George commented, as they watched a disgruntled – and green haired – Hufflepuff fifth year stalk across the Great Hall. He’d laughed at the blonde girl’s earrings.

“Definitely,” his brother agreed, “Using our talents for good, rather than…”

He paused. ‘Evil’ seemed too strong a word.

“I’d go for ‘bad’,” George said, after considering the use of the word for a while, “It’s not like we’re even doing anything particularly wrong.”

The Hufflepuff was now heading towards the hospital wing.

“Well…”

***

A few months later, they met the girl they protecting face to face. It wasn’t all that hard to see why people teased her.

She was balmy. And that, as Fred often pointed out, was putting it mildly. Luna seemed to have a sign pinned to her back, proclaiming ‘hex me; I’m different, and too sweet to get annoyed’. It was as clear to everyone else as Snorkacks were to her.

Still, they were Weasleys, and they had sworn to look after her. The twins would never go back on their word, and she was rather nice. When you got to know her.

To nice to enact her own revenge, that was for certain. It was lucky, really, that Fred and George had no such scruples.

It was also a good job Madam Pomfrey was rather adept at removing antlers from students. They didn’t suit Draco Malfoy at all.

***

He was a distant relative of Fleur’s, so obnoxious he was being given a wide berth my all the Weasley wedding guests. Even Aunt Muriel didn’t speak to him, and she was so infuriating herself that she tended not to notice it in others.

Fred and George, however, saw this as reward rather than punishment, and were watching him from a distance, waiting for a chance to strike.

“’ave you seen what she is wearing?” he remarked, in a loud whisper, “Not even proper dress robes! And ze colour!”

There was a chorus of laughter, and Fred ground his teeth. It was obvious who they were talking about. She was currently dancing over to one side, arms raised above her head, blissfully unaware of the insults.

“She mus’ be insane, if you ask me…”

And then, just like that, he crossed an invisible line. Yes, she was loony. But she was their loony.

Fred and George exchanged glances that would have sent Hogwarts students running for their lives (or at least running until they were out of the range of any exploding toilet seats). A few minutes later, the Frenchman in question had hair that was a rather spectacular shade of yellow. Just like Luna’s dress.

***

Luna was racing for the astronomy tower. In theory. In reality, she was simply trying to get to a place where she was needed, preferably without getting killed in the process.

Skidding on shards of broken glass, Luna narrowly escaped death at the hands of a burly, masked Death Eater struggling to fit through the window he’d just smashed. She stopped herself falling, but her palms ended up cut to ribbons, and the sticky blood made it impossible to grip her wand properly when she tried to fight back.

With a gasp, she ducked a jet of red light, avoiding death by inches, yet again. The Death Eater, now safely inside the castle laughed, sensing triumph. He probably would have found it, too, if Fred and George hadn’t been nearby, securing one of the many secret passageways around the castle. Ever Luna’s guardian angels, they hit him with a hex so powerful that he flew back into the wall and fel, at least temporarily, still.

Luna didn’t get a chance to turn and thank them. More Death Eaters were pouring in. She could hear shouts and screams from further ahead, and didn’t pause for a second, simply hurled herself back into the fray after wiping her palms on her robes.

“That’s gratitude for you,” remarked Fred with a laugh. “Think I should go after her?”

“I’ll finish here,” said George with a nod, “Be along as soon as I can. Save at least one good Death Eater for me?”

“I can’t promise anything, if you’re too slow,” Fred laughed, waving at his brother before jogging off to join Percy, who was hastening down the corridor in the same direction as Luna.

Ten compliments to people you know.

1. You're the best person I know. You're a hero. You're brave, and kind, and gentle, and wonderful. But you never seem to see it, which is a terrible shame.

2. I'm proud to call you my friend. A little surprised, though. People still seem to think you should have better friends than me.

3. I still miss you, very much. Even though I know you're with me every single day. I love you.

4. I forgive you for what you almost did to my friends. I know you were only doing it because you love me, and I love you too.

5. You're very intelligent, and you're a very nice person, too. It's just a shame you're so skeptical about everything. You don't really believe in anything that can't be researched.

6. Although you're rather rude sometimes, and although you can be quite cruel to people you care about, I still like you very much. You make me laugh.

7. You used to look after me, even before the DA. You were one of the first people at Hogwarts to treat me like a person. I'll never forget that. I love you very much.

And you have lovely hair.

8. We became good friends in Shell Cottage. I don't think you would have spoken to me otherwise, but I'm very pleased to have met you.

9. I think you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen. And you're very kind, too. Thank you for looking after me after my time in Malfoy Manor.

10. I didn't know you, and you didn't know me, but you saved my life. I'm very grateful.

Headlines.

Luna wrinkled her nose, peering over her father's shoulder at the newspaper he was clutching. A very familiar face was peering back at her from the black and white photograph covering most of the main page, although it was wearing a digitally enhanced scowl. His hair was tidier than usual in the picture, too, parted to show the jagged lightning bolt scar.

"'The Boy Who Lies'," she read aloud, shaking her head. "You don't believe that, do you, Daddy?"

Xenophilus shook his head furiously. "Of course not, Luna. If Dumbledore believes him, that's good enough for me. Besides, this is the Daily Prophet. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them, my dear."

"What are the headlines in this issue of The Quibbler, Daddy?" asked Luna, seemingly nonchalant. Her father wasn't fooled for a second.

"Well, I was going to run a wonderful article on Gernumbli magic..." Xenophilius began.

Then he looked up at his daughter's earnest, wide-eyed face.

"I suppose I could print something about your friend Harry."

"Thank you!" Luna exclaimed, beaming, "Although he isn't really my friend, Daddy. We've never even spoken."

Not yet, anyway. It was always just a matter of time.

Ten things that make your day better.

1. Waking up and seeing the paintings on my ceiling. Thinking about my friends always makes me happy.

2. Helping Daddy with the press. I always enjoy helping produce the latest edition of the Quibbler.

3. Breakfast in the Great Hall. The House Elves at Hogwarts are wonderful. They always remember to leave some gravy on the Ravenclaw table for me, right next to the orange juice.

4. Divination lessons. I don't know why Harry dislikes them so much. I find them fascinating, especially when Firenze is teaching. He says I have a rather centaur-like way of looking at things. Most humans are very closed off.

5. DA meetings. Of course. I really miss them this year.

6. Watching the Quidditch. I enjoyed commentating, but I don't think Professor McGonagall liked it very much. I'm happy just to watch now, and support my friends. Ronald, Harry and Ginny are all on the Gryffindor team. I don't have any friends in Ravenclaw.

7. Snow. Hogwarts is very beautiful in the winter.

8. Care of Magical Creature lessons. Hagrid always finds such beautiful and exciting creatures for us to study. Professor Grubbly-Plank was a little dull.

9. Talking to my friends. I like having friends.

10. Going to sleep. Dreams are fascinating, don't you think?

Ten things in your bedroom.

1. A photograph of my mother and I. Wizard photographs are rather wonderful, aren't they? It's so nice to look at the photograph and see her smiling back at me. I'd never forget what she looked like, of course, but she was such a remarkable witch, and so very pretty, that I might have forgotten what I looked like then.

2. Some paintings I've done. I'm not a brilliant artist, although Daddy says I am, and I don't usually put my drawings on display, but the five on my ceiling are very special. There's one of Harry, one of Neville, one of Ginny, one of Hermione and one of Ronald. They're my best friends. I haven't shown them the paintings, actually, but I do think they'd like them.

3. A vase of flowers. They're a little dry now, but they still smell very nice.

4. Some old copies of the Quibbler. I like to do the rune translations when I can't sleep.

5. A great many books. Some of them are for school, but Daddy always encourages me to read more. Rowena Ravenclaw was a great reader, you see, and it's always nice to follow in her footsteps.

6. Some dried gurdyroots. I don't want to risk an infestation of Gulping Plimpies, after all.

7. My lamp. Daddy and I made it ourselves, decorating it with shells we collected on a trip to Cornwall when I was very small. It's very pretty.

8. A biscuit tin filled with butterbeer corks. I only make my favourites into necklaces, but it seems such a shame to throw the others away. You never know when you'll have a use for them.

9. A big comfy armchair, with lots of cushions. It's nice to have something to sit in while I'm reading, even though I spend most of my time downstairs with Daddy.

10. My wardrobe, which is filled with my clothing, naturally. I like my robes very much, but it's nice to wear Muggle clothing sometimes. Daddy says I look just fine, but I do get some very strange looks when I walk into the village. I don't think I've mastered how to blend in with Muggles yet.

Impossible.

Luna Lovegood lived an impossible life.

It was the sort of life that many would envy. She drifted through existence like a butterfly, alighting periodically on particularly interesting flowers or colourful stones, before fluttering off again, as light as air.

A charmed life.

She was either unaware of the negative aspects of the universe, or decided to ignore them. With so much beauty in the world, why focus on the darkness? It would pass eventually, as it always did. Light had a habit of shining through.

A blissful life.

Although...perhaps she was more of a thestral than a butterfly. She wasn't beautiful, with untidy hair and silver eyes wide in a face that was a little too pale. Eerie.

She was as clever as a thestral, though neither of them looked particularly intelligent. It wasn’t the sort of knowledge you could learn in books (although Luna was adept at that, when she put her mind to it). It was the knowledge that came only from looking at the world with innocence and hope.

Her mother had given Luna an infinite capacity for hope, and her father had given her the ability to believe in anything that she deemed worth believing in.

A naïve life, but a good one. And, for anyone other than Luna Lovegood, utterly impossible.

"To be great is to be misunderstood." - Oscar Wilde

“She’s barking!” Ron hissed. Harry tried to ignore him, which was easy giving the blinding obviousness of his statement.

The ‘she’ in question was Luna Lovegood, DA member and Hogwarts School’s resident eccentric. It hadn’t been her intention, but her arrival in the library had caused everyone to look up from their Potions essays and Transfiguration homework.

Luna often had that sort of effect on people.

The Hippogriff feathers currently platted into her long blonde hair probably didn’t help.

“Hello, Harry,” she said, giving him a bright smile as she’d wandered dreamily past on her way to the Divination books, “Hello Hermione. Hello Ronald.”

Harry nodded, and returned the smile. It was so bright, so utterly innocent, that ignoring her would have been like kicking a kitten. Even Hermione managed a weak ‘hi’.

Ron continued to stare at her, aghast.

Luna didn’t seem to notice, and drifted past, her robes billowing around her. Strange how her robes seemed to billow. They were the same school robes as the rest of Hogwarts wore, but they looked different on Luna. Ethereal, as if she was an all-too-solid ghost hovering through the castle.

No ghost would wear radishes as fashion accessories.

“She’s barking,” Ron repeated, allowing his voice to rise a little now Luna was out of sight behind the bookcases.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, glaring at him, “She’ll hear you.”

“So?” Ron shrugged, looking a little sheepish, as he so often did when Hermione berated him (despite his best efforts to remain unmoved). “I don’t mean it in a bad way. She’s our friend. But, I mean, come on, Hermione, she must know she’s utterly insane.”

The ghost had drifted around the bookshelves while he was talking/ Ron, pink cheeked, opened his mouth to apologise, but it was rather redundant. Luna looked delighted. He’d called her a friend. He could have added several spiteful and intelligent adjectives after that, and she wouldn’t have cared. A real friend.

“To be great is to be misunderstood,” she said, pleasantly, before slipping past them and out of the library, a battered book clutched to her chest. They could hear her footsteps on the cobbles as she skipped along, but then she rounded the corner and disappeared out of earshot.

“I suppose it makes a chance from ‘wit beyond measure...'” ventured Harry, helpfully.

Talk about a moment in which you wished you had a camera.

Luna Lovegood was the antithesis of everything usually considered beautiful, and never more so than when she was hanging cutlery from the branches of a Christmas tree in lieu of actual decorations.

It was a habit of her mother’s, apparently, and she’d sounded so proud when she explained it that Neville hadn’t even considered it strange.

That was probably a sign he’d been spending too much time with her.

It was Christmas Eve (their first Christmas since the war, in fact). For reasons Neville couldn’t quite fathom – Luna probably didn’t understand them either – he had been invited to the Lovegood’s half-finished house in order to help decorate the tree.

She had already festooned the partially-completed brickwork with holly and icicles before he’d arrived, but there was still plenty of work left to do. Neville had never realised Christmas decorations involved such hard work. Even Xenophilus had consented to help them!

Admittedly he didn’t do very much, and retreated to bed rather early, but Luna was delighted to catch a glimpse of the person he had used to be. He’d been a shadow of himself since returning from Azkaban, although the matter-of-fact way she explained that to Neville had left him half-convinced she was joking.

Like the rest of the Wizarding World, the Lovegoods were still recovering from the after-effects of the battle against You-Know-Who. It was a slow process for Xenophilius, but, if you looked at Luna, humming to herself as she danced around the tree, those tragic and terrible events were a whole world away.

She’d been held prisoner in Malfoy Manor and fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, but even that hadn’t been able to shake her out of the wondrous, hope-filled world she inhabited. Neville was both pleased, and more than a little jealous.

When the battered clock on the mantlepiece began to chime - where had the last few hours gone? – Luna dropped the silver forks she’d been hanging with a clatter. She grabbed his hand and, to Neville’s utter astonishment, dragged him out into the snow.

It was bitterly cold, but the warmth of her hand in his was enough to stop him noticing it. She smiled up at him - beautific - and then let go of his hand, springing away to spin round in the flurry of flakes cascading from the sky, arms outstretched.

“Merry Christmas, Neville,” she said, in between catching snowflakes on hre tongue, and he nodded. For reasons even more mysterious than those behind his invitation, his throat seemed to have closed up.

Luna didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she turned to face him, grey eyes reflecting the moonlight, and, almost instinctively, Neville drew her to him. She felt terribly fragile in his arms, as insubstantial, as the snowflakes shimmering on her eyelashes.

It wasn’t Luna he was holding. It couldn’t be. It was a ghost girl, an echo of Luna, because she was far too perfect, too wondrous, for the likes of Neville Longbottom.

When you dream about something – someone – for so long, it’s easier to keep them a dream than risk losing it all. The slimmest shadow of reality was better than nothing at all.

However, when her pale face turned to his, and her lips moved to meet his own, she suddenly felt very real indeed.

Ten things you've never done before.

1. Seen a Snorkack.

2. Travelled the world.

3. Fallen in love. At least...I don't think I have.

4. Taken a NEWT exam.

5. Cried over someone who died.

6. Said a proper goodbye.

7. Wished I was in a different house.

8. Had a proper kiss.

9. Lied to one of my friends.

10. Pretended to be someone I'm not.

Ten things you wish could take longer.

1. DA Meetings.

2. The journey on the Hogwarts Express.

3. Fishing with Daddy.

4. Charms Lessons

5. Autumn afternoons. The sort of afternoon when it's cool and crisp and dry, and the leaves are such beautiful colours, and the whole world seems to be getting ready to sleep for Winter.

6. Snowball fights.

7. When I'm helping Daddy proof-read the Quibbler.

8. The Sorting Ceremony.

9. Moments spent with my friends.

10. Moments spent with Neville.

Control.

Bellatrix Lestrange likes being in control. She likes being in control and she likes abusing the power which that gives her.

Luna learnt that the hard way.

For all her intelligence, Luna Lovegood is rather naive. She believes in the good in people. This is why she doesn't hold it any grudges when it comes to the people who mistreated her at Hogwarts. This is why she was such an easy target for the Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor.

They treated her like a dog treats a chew toy, pushing constantly, seeing how far they could go before she toppled over the edge.

Luna never snapped. Luna just stared back at them with wide silver eyes, filled with pity. She wasn't sorry for herself. She was sorry for them. This made the Death Eaters angry, and confused, and, occasionally, just a little bit sorry.

In the end they all left her alone, even Bellatrix. Luna would hum to herself in the darkness of the cellar, playing with the odds and ends she'd located in their makeshift cell. Despite her size, despite the fact that she didn't have a wand, she was able to unnerve the Death Eaters.

And, though she didn't take any particular pleasure from it, she supposed that meant she was in control.

Ten questions you will never answer.

1. What happened to you while you were in Malfoy Manor?

2. What was the nature of the accident that killed your mother?

3. Have you ever seen a Nargle?

4. Are you angry with your father for betraying Harry and the others?

5. Do you hate the people in school who treated you badly?

6. Why are you so proud to be a Ravenclaw?

7. Was it lonely, before the DA?

8. Why do you always believe what your father says?

9. Do you miss your mother?

10. What do you think happens after death?

Of course, I don't really know why anyone would to ask any of these questions. I'm not very interesting.

"Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane." - Philip K. Dick

A lot of people seem to think I'm insane. I'm not. Not even slightly. Daddy says we're just open-minded, and there's nothing wrong with that. I like to think that I see things other people are too scared to see and too scared to believe in.

I think that Mr Dick has gone things the wrong way round. He seems to think that to escape reality you have to go insane, but the thing with reality is that it will rarely let you get away with that. If anything, reality forces you to become sane.

You have to cope with all the terrible things, and if you're lost in your own little world you just can't do that.

The war changed me, and it changed the way I saw the world. I didn't really have much of a choice. So many terrible things happened, it would be naive to think I would be the same person at the end as I was at the beginning.

I think it made me a little saner, and a little more closed-minded, which is rather sad. I don't look at Daddy the same way anymore, and I don't believe in everything he says. I don't look at the world and see just the good things - I can't help but notice the bad.

I'd rather be insane, really. But you can't have everything.

Write about something you've lost.

I expect people will be thinking I'm going write about my mother for this, but that's silly. I haven't lost her. I'll always have her!

Shortly after she died, though, Daddy did catch me a baby Heliopath. He found it down by the bridge at the bottom of our garden. It must have got lost or something, because I haven't found one there since.

I don't know if you're familiar with Heliopaths, but they're easily domesticated, at least if you're careful. Cornelius Fudge, the old Minister for Magic, he had an army of them.

They're spirits of fire, but you can even train them to control their flames, so they can burn things at will rather than accidentally (and constantly). To do this, though, you have to keep them in isolation for a few weeks before handling them. Otherwise, Daddy says, they'll be frightened by your touch, and combust, and it isn't a reversible process.

Daddy put him in a box with some fire-proof padding and a little teddy bear (for company), and then we put the box up on my dresser. Then all we could do was wait.

Two weeks passed, and I checked on the box everyday, making sure it was being kept warm enough, and that everything was ok. And then, finally, enough time had passed, and I was able to open it!

But, when I did, the poor little thing was gone. I searched the house from top to bottom, but I couldn't find the tiny Heliopath anywhere. Daddy said it didn't matter, it obviously just hadn't been the right sort of pet for me, but I was still terribly upset. Some of them just can't be domesticated, but I'd felt so certain this one would be.

I haven't had any pets since they. I've been a little scared. I know I'm hardly nine years old now, but what if I lose them too?

Ten quotes that exemplify you as a person and why.

1. Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.

Rowena Ravenclaw said that, you know. She was one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a most remarkable witch.

Daddy always says she's just like my mother. She was beautiful, and clever, and creative.

She designed the floor plans of Hogwarts all by herself, you know.

It was such a shame that she died prematurely. People sometimes say that she died because of a broken heart, which would be a terrible thing to die from. Much more painful than any illness.

Does a broken heart count as an illness? I suppose it is a medical condition, but not one that can be treated. Imagine all the other things Rowena could have accomplished if it had have been curable, and she'd had some extra time to live!

I'd like to be like Rowena Ravenclaw when I grow up. Daddy says that since I was sorted into her house I already am, but I think he was just saying it. I'm not beautiful, and I'll never be as wise as her. People call me Loony at school, you know. But Rowena would have risen above it, and I do the same.

Daddy was in Ravenclaw as well. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff always get forgotten because Gryffindor and Slytherin are the famous ones, who produce the really famous wizards. It's a bit silly, really. Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were always fighting. Helga and Rowena were good friends, though. Surely that's more worthy or recognition?

I don't really have any friends in Ravenclaw, though. My best friends are in Gryffindor. They're all very brave. Maybe that's why they're worthy of recognition. I wish I could be anywhere near as brave as they are.

2.

Errr...I think I've forgotten what the question was.

You've woken up as the opposite sex this morning...

Now what?

Hogwarts was the sort of place were accidents happen all the time. You can't expect to keep hundreds of young, untrained witches and wizards in one spot without at least slight mishaps.

This particular accident, however, was a little bit different.

***

It happened on an apparently ordinary January day in her sixth year. She woke up slowly, enjoying the feeling of being safely enfolded in the canopy of her bed. It wasn't until the other girls in her dormitory also began to wake up, and the screaming started, that Luna realised something was amiss.

Her voice, when she asked what was wrong, was a lot deeper than she remembered. And her hair was shorter, too - there was none of the familiar weight on her shoulders.

When she scratched her cheek, she realised that there was even a faint trace of stubble on it.

Not feeling particularly worried - more intrigued - Luna made her away across the dormitory, past her frightened roommates, and studied herself in the mirror.

The figure looking back at her, although dressed with some difficulty in Luna's patched and frayed night gown, was definitely not the one she remembered. It was taller, more muscular (although not that muscular), and, most importantly, male.

"Oh," said Luna. One of the girls gathered behind her almost fainted.

***

Luna sat patiently in Dumbledore's office, her legs over the edge of the armchair she was seated in.

She'd met the trio in the Great Hall on the way to breakfast. Luna had a Charms lesson at 9 o'clock, and didn't think that changing gender was any excuse to miss it. Harry, however, had persuaded her to go and see Professor Dumbledore first.

He'd kept a remarkably straight face when he told her this (Ron hadn't been so polite), so Luna had been all too happy to obey.

Professor Dumbledore, when he'd found her waiting patiently by the gargoyle for him to return from breakfast, had kept a straight face too, though he'd been rather sat to inform her that it might take a while to locate a counter spell.

She's still wanted to go to her lessons, but the Professor had insisted Luna remained here, for some reason.

Humming to herself while she waited, Luna decided she was rather glad she wouldn't have to get used to this new anatomy. She didn't really like it very much. Later, she'd have to ask Harry, Ron and Neville how they coped.